WHO Jamie Whitaker OT Grace Whitaker WHAT The hunter and the hunted. WHERE Abandoned cabin on the outskirts of Willow Creek WHEN Wednesday, August 17th, 2016, late evening WARNINGS TBD
The structure sat in a clearing and had begun to look like Nature was winning the fight in taking back what was once hers. As for the building itself, it had lost its battle long ago; Whether it had been due to nature or the abuses of mortals remained to be seen, but nearly all the window panes were missing it's glass and half were missing the plywood that had been nailed in place. At least two of the three doors were off their hinges and cast aside like garbage was a testament to the dwellings attraction to vampires. Thinking of Bishop, and that Mysteria place he was building, Jamie reassessed his last thought to some vampires. His former brother-in-arms probably wouldn't touch this place with a ten foot pole unless under extreme circumstances.
"And those circumstances would have to be pretty extreme," he muttered under his breath as he broke free of the tree line. The cabin had been cleared long ago of bloodsucking vermin, but Jamie had made it a point to periodically check the property since it was located in a less populated area of the small town. The closest neighbor was more than a mile away, so it was unlikely that if he got off his shotgun round, no one would hear and those that did wouldn't be in a position to help him immediately. Although if he missed taking down a vampire at close range with a sawed-off after all these years, then he deserved to get eaten.
Jamie cautiously approached the cabin after checking the perimeter for signs of recent activity. There was none, but, like people, some vamps were smarter than others. When he was a mere few feet from the steps leading up to the front porch, the hunter raised the double-barreled weapon and cautiously ascended the stairs. When nothing immediately jumped him, Jamie pulled free a stake he had strapped to his thigh and approached the open front door.
Shadows gathered and crept forward toward the cabin in the woods, arms outstretched to guide lost souls as clearly as any neon VACANCY sign on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Shadows were a vampire's best friend, offering camouflage and, at times, even sanctuary. The eyes that watched the hunter did so from a distance, but they missed nothing, and the shadows cloaked their owner in the cover of darkness.
The cabin was familiar. She'd passed through here briefly while getting the lay of the land, but had dismissed it as a possibility for shelter. It smelled like a trap, and judging from the activity tonight, she hadn't been wrong. There were signs within that it had been used recently, footprints that cut through the layers of dirt and dust, and the scent of blood drying in a way that suggested that someone had turned the shack into a love nest or a place to nurse a wound, but wasn't heavy enough to signify a kill. In a town with a heavy supernatural population and more than a few hunters, it was exactly the type of place to draw unwanted attention. Plus, she preferred a more civilized hideout, if one was necessary.
The hunter's footsteps were careful, but not silent. She heard his muttered words and spared a passing curiosity at their meaning, but her attention was rapt as she watched him approach the cabin. He wasn't the first hunter whose path she'd crossed, nor was he the first hunter she'd observed this closely. Part of her training had consisted of getting inside the head of a hunter, learning how to think like one. In doing so, she could minimize her own tracks while being conscious of the signs that she herself was being hunted.
But her interest in this one wasn't in eliminating him, and her observations weren't just calculating. With his gun lifted and his stake at the ready, it was as if she were seeing him again for the very first time, and it painted a much different picture than their actual first meeting. Had she ever really known him?
Her movements were eerily quiet and little more than a blur as she reached the spot at the tree line that he'd vacated. His scent lingered in the air, too familiar for her liking.
Unaware he was being watched, Jamie proceeded over the threshold and paused long enough for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior. Thankfully, there was just enough light from the moon that a flashlight wasn't necessary. A slight smile curved his mouth as he recalled the numerous nights and hours spent stumbling around in the dark with Bishop, training his eyes to see. It grew wider as he remembered all the times the two of them had played pranks on each other and scaring the shit out of themselves. Richard would lecture them that training was supposed to be serious and for a while, that was the case until inevitably one of them would pull a prank on the other again. As Jamie cleared his first room, the grin on his face wilted as his thoughts naturally turned to what Bishop had become.
His feelings toward Bishop were such a mixed bag of emotions, that it was always a struggle to sort them out even after all these years. Lately, the anger he usually felt toward the vampire was giving way to regret again. Regret that he hadn't fulfilled Bishop's wishes, regret that he'd been unable to do so, and regret that he'd lost someone he thought of as a brother. If he'd had the stomach to kill Bishop when he asked, Jamie had long come to the conclusion that Grace would still be alive. Knowing he had to correct his mistake was one of the reasons that drove him to pursue Catalina so much. Then again, she was also just so much Bad News that she deserved such attention. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered if Bishop had been killed or not long ago. Maybe it did. Maybe the hunter would spend the rest of his life contemplating that question until he inevitably died at the hands of one monster or another.
He was just clearing the second room when he noticed the tracks leading into the third room. If their direction was any indication, whoever had been in here last used the back door… and brought something in with them according to the drag marks he could see. Readying the sawed-off, Jamie pressed himself against the wall and crept forward toward the door.
The cabin was so old that it no longer kept its inhabitants' secrets as well as it once might have. The vampire could hear every creak and groan the old, semi-rotting floorboards gave up beneath the hunter's footsteps. Nature was in the process of reclaiming it, but the structure wouldn't fall tonight. Not unless it had some help.
She knew that no matter how quiet and light on her feet she was, the house would betray her presence too, as soon as she crossed the threshold. As she stepped free of the treeline's protection, she lifted the hood of her black sweater and pulled it down low enough to shadow her features but not obstruct her vision. She was clad in all black, as she usually was when she was on a hunt. It made slipping in and out of the darkness that much easier. Tonight, however, the moon shone down brightly in the clearing, and without the cover of the trees, she had to rely on speed instead of camouflage to hide her approach.
It was a dangerous game she was playing, compounded exponentially by the fact that her opponent was unaware that the game had even begun. He was a hunter, but not the same as she was. He would no doubt shoot first and ask questions later.
If he spared a thought for questions at all.
Waiting him out would be the safest bet. He wouldn't remain in the cabin all night. If a confrontation was what she wanted, the ambush was already set. As soon as he exited, she could take him down. The element of surprise was on her side. Even if he was on his guard, he would never be expecting her.
If she stepped foot inside that cabin now, she'd be giving up her extra advantage. They would both be confined by smaller spaces. There were more unknowns in there, more variables, which meant more opportunities for things to go sideways. She might be spoiling for a fight — but she wasn't looking for a kill. Not tonight.
Given the steps he'd taken to be careful, he was only human. By now, if there had been a monster intent on attacking, they would've long since known he was in the dilapidated house and made their move. Then again, experience taught him that sometimes, the monsters liked to play with their prey… Therefore, Jamie was cautious as he flattened himself against the wall, shifting to face it as he readied his weapon while approaching and quickly darting through the door to possibly catch his target unawares.
When nothing attacked him, the hunter cleared the room and took a closer inspection of the interior using a penlight. The stains on the floor were recent, but not fresh which meant whatever or whoever had been in the abandoned dwelling had since moved on, one way or another. Jamie continued to clear the house, noting that there were more recent tracks, but no signs of habitation. Once the place passed his inspection, Jamie made his way back to the front of the house and exited it, but paused just before he intended to descend the stairs. Something wasn't right.
It had gone quiet while he was in the house. As cliche as it sounded in his head, it was too quiet for a wooded area. There should've been the nocturnal equivalent of a party going on outside. Not even a damn cricket was chirping, which meant there was something else in the area aside from him the woods didn't like. As he seemingly appeared casual while returning the stake to it's thigh holster, Jamie scanned the tree line while wishing not for the first time that he had werewolf vision. Despite his parents being killed by them, Jamie had never held a grudge against werewolves in general. In fact, he liked most werewolves — They were rather respectable beings unless you came across one in a foul temper around the full moon.
Adjusting his shirt beneath his jacket, Jamie used the action to subtly check to make sure the 9mm at the small of his back was unobstructed before he finally made his way down the stairs. As the hunter started toward the woods and the trek back to his Triumph, his heart started thumping harder in his chest, pumping adrenaline through his body. Once he hit the woods, he'd lose any advantage the moon gave him so he did the sensible thing and pulled his phone from inside his jacket, dialing Bri's number.
"It's me. Just checking in from that abandoned property out beyond Westlake Park. There's been recent activity, maybe a month ago, but nothing to act on. Judging from what I looked at, whatever was here moved on and there's been nothing unusual in the papers to indicate they stuck around." He paused both in speech and step as the shadows of the trees seemed to reach for him, a sigh accompanying the action.
"We need to talk, Bri. This "keeping things professional" shit isn't going to work." There was another pause before he muttered into the phone, "... I miss you." Jamie abruptly ended the one-sided conversation with a curse and shoved the phone back into his jacket pocket, using the action once again to pull the 9mil from it's holster at his back and plunged himself into the darkness of the woods.